


Message Me

by supernaturallysherlocked



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-04
Updated: 2013-07-04
Packaged: 2017-12-17 16:34:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/869652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernaturallysherlocked/pseuds/supernaturallysherlocked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John gets desperate and joins a dating site, while Sherlock decides its time for a change. rated for johnlock. Extended one-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Message Me

Sherlock leaned over a beaker, frowning as the contents bubbled. He sighed with irritation and scooped up some powder to add to it as John came over with some tea, trying to work out what he was doing.  
"Thank you," he murmured, glancing over at John briefly and offering him a slight smile before scowling at the beaker again as the contents turned bright blue.  
"Sherlock, what is that?"  
"An experiment," he answered shortly. John rolled his eyes and sipped his tea, leaning against the counter.  
"how dangerous?"  
"Corrosive. Could do some damage." he shrugged "Nothing fatal." John just shook his head, exasperated.  
"why?" Sherlock blinked at him.  
"I'm bored."  
"no, what does this experiment prove?" He shrugged.  
"I don't know, I'm bored enough to throw random ingredients together and see what happens. It proves that I'm bored?" John just shook his head and picked up his laptop. Sherlock chuckled and turned back to his experiment. It didn't take long for whatever was in the beaker to shatter the glass, sending pieces skittering across the counter.  
"... Oops."  
John looked round from his armchair, his brow furrowed.  
"Sherlock, what did you do?!"  
"... I might have broken the beaker."  
"Sherlock!" John got up to have a look, careful not to step in anything. He shrugged and went to find a dustpan, brush, some disinfectant and some tissues.  
"It's not the first time it's happened..." John sighed and turned back to the laptop, typing quickly. Sherlock collected the pieces of glass, shooting a frown at the back of John's head.  
"Don't tell me, you're writing about this on your blog."  
"Nope." John shifted so Sherlock couldn't see the laptop.  
"You are, aren't you?" he demanded. He dropped the glass and ruined tissues in the bin and bounded across the room to lean over John's shoulder. John slammed down the screen before Sherlock could see.  
"no, I wasn't."  
"Your behaviour suggests otherwise. If you weren't, you would leave the laptop open."  
"I wasn't." John sipped his tea. Sherlock leaned in towards John, unleashing the full power of his puppy dog eyes.  
"Then why won't you tell me what it is?" John laughed and patted Sherlock on the head,  
"you won't find it interesting, and anyway, its...personal." The simple touch made a shiver run down Sherlock's spine. He frowned.  
"Now you say that, I want to know even more. I'll work it out eventually; it'll be much less painful for you to tell me now."  
"painful!?"  
"Well, annoying then."  
"no, id rather not." John put the laptop down and quickly stood, finishing his tea. Sherlock pretended to give up. He sighed and dropped into his armchair.  
"Oh, be careful. I might have missed some of the liquid somewhere."  
"I will." John tiptoed into the kitchen and put his cup in the sink. While John was out of the room, Sherlock scooped up his laptop and hid it behind him, into the cushions of the armchair. It wasn't his best hiding place, but it should be enough.  
However, John was smart enough to realise that Sherlock was the only one that could possibly steal his laptop, so instead, he tucked it inside his jacket and strolled towards his room under the pretence of fetching his violin. John decided to make more tea, but then he realised what he had done. he ran into the sitting room, looking for Sherlock. seeing no trace, he skidded into Sherlock's room.  
"Sherlock!" Sherlock looked over his shoulder, tapping away on the keys to unlock John's user.  
"Problem?"  
"give. it. Back." Sherlock held it out of John's reach, just to be spiteful and childish. He grinned.  
"Then tell me what you're doing."  
"why do you have to know?"  
"I'm bored and I'm curious. That's reason enough."  
"well," he was exasperated,  
"go solve a crime or something."  
"There are no interesting ones." With a cool expression, he turned back to John's laptop to press 'enter'.  
"No!" John attempted to grab the laptop, but Sherlock held it out of his way. The screen had cleared now, but he looked at John instead.  
"I won't look if you explain. And before you ask, yes, I really am bored enough to irritate you in this way." John was about to say there was no point in explaining if he was going to look, but then he remembered that Sherlock would be able to see the site and all of the stuff he had put there.  
"fine, I promise I will tell you if you give it to me first." Sherlock gave John one of those quick smiles that lasted for only a second.  
"Thank you." He lowered his hand and passed the laptop over. John immediately closed the page and deleted the web history before turning off the laptop, turning back to the living room. Sherlock caught his elbow.  
"Ah, ah, ah, You promised."  
"I didn't say when though..." John loved annoying Sherlock. Sherlock growled. Actually growled.  
"I'd prefer now."  
"why? why do you have to know everything?" John sounded like a whiny child.  
"I don't have to know everything, but I'm bored and I want to know this."  
"really?"  
"Yes." John mumbled his reply and walked quickly into the living room. Sherlock followed him like a lost puppy, picking up his violin as he went, making John quickly change his mind and busied himself making yet more tea. Sherlock tuned his violin, making sure to make it perfect.  
"Sooo?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow.  
"I didn't think you would do such a thing, John."  
"that's it? no statistics? no mind-numbing reasons why its a bad idea?" John was amazed. Sherlock kept his back to John and continued tuning his violin; it was mostly to make sure none of his emotions were betrayed by his face.  
"It is a bad idea. You can never be sure with those websites that the person you are pairing yourself with is... right." He'd been about to say 'honest', but then that would be ruling himself out, wouldn't it?  
"its worth a try, at least." John was used to Sherlock's scepticism, but he seemed different this time,  
"are you ok?"  
"I'm fine," he replied smoothly.  
"Why wouldn't I be? Really, John, you'd be better off forgetting about that website, or any of the others for that matter. I don't see why you feel the need to use them when your... skills at attracting women are perfectly good anyway." Women and me, anyway. John just laughed, blatantly ignorant to Sherlock's feelings and picked up the laptop again, settling into his usual arm chair. Sherlock began to play the violin quietly, still looking out of the window.  
"Why the laugh?"  
"I don't know, you just make me laugh from time to time." he started re-writing his profile. Sherlock smiled slightly, deciding to stay silent instead of replying. John added "a sense of humour" to the list of what he looks for in other people, chuckling softly. Sherlock frowned, the violin was slightly off-key, but also because he had an idea that would probably make John angry enough to throttle him. He gave up on his violin for now and dropped into his armchair, picking up his own laptop as he did so. He'd 'accidentally' caught a glimpse of the site John was on when he handed his computer back, so it wasn't difficult to find it. John raised an eyebrow at one particular match and opened her profile, sipping his tea through his curiosity. Sherlock frowned. John had found a possible match...  
That just wasn't acceptable.  
He quickly made an account, skipping most of the details. Boring. Irrelevant. Unnecessary. He then set about searching for John. Meanwhile, John sniffed as he read through the women's page, changing his mind immediately; smoker. Sherlock would go mental. John carried on looking, then raised his eyebrow again as he saw another possibility. Sherlock glanced at John, frowned, then back at the screen.  
Ah-ha. There.  
Forward as always, Sherlock simply clicked the button and waited. John flicked through the possibility's page, feeling hopeful, then a notification popped up in the corner of his screen. Sherlock placed his hands under his chin in his thinking pose. John read the suggestion and his eyebrows shot up,  
"Sherlock?!" Sherlock raised an eyebrow.  
"Yes, John?"  
"umm, what Is this?!" John indicated to the screen. Sherlock blinked at John, silent for a moment, then he sighed and buried his face in his hands.  
"You are more intelligent than most, John, but dear God..."

John was shocked, this was a revelation. Sherlock liked him? Sherlock liked him?! he had no idea that Sherlock was capable of liking anyone, let alone him. he tried to speak but all that came out was a slurred mumble,  
"whaa..." Sherlock was still ranting, partly due to nerves.  
"... particularly thick right now, which really isn't helpful at all..."  
"but-whaa..."John was dumbstruck; he dropped his laptop on the floor, causing a horrid bang as it landed heavily on the floor.  
"Do be careful with that laptop, John, they're expensive, as I'm sure you're well aware." Sherlock stood up and strode back and forth, ruffling his hair with one of his hands, as if by doing so he could shake the anxiety out of himself.  
"I don't see how it could be more obvious," Sherlock carried on . John pointed dumbly at Sherlock, then back at himself, still oblivious to the laptop. The detective just nodded curtly, still striding back and forth. John muttered something then just stared at Sherlock, head slightly tilted slightly; he was running through several scenarios in his head, all of which worried him. When John didn't say anything, Sherlock huffed and went to pick up his violin. Perhaps playing it would bring some small comfort to him. He couldn't imagine the right notes though, couldn't picture the music as he normally did. John was still very unsure of his own feelings, but he knew he had to at least comfort Sherlock, so he stood and walked over, putting his hand on his shoulder. Sherlock flinched in surprise. He narrowed his eyes and looked over at John. He raised an eyebrow silently in question. John just smiled and rubbed Sherlock's shoulder soothingly, attempting to show him that it was ok. Sherlock turned away again, placing the bow on the strings. He forced himself to play something - anything. It was a simple piece, but he wasn't sure if he could cope with much more at the moment. He simply closed his eyes and concentrated on the music, making a conscious effort to play each note correctly in a last-ditch attempt to distract himself. John sat down again and watched Sherlock, the laptop lying forgotten on the floor. John decided to make tea, give Sherlock a moment to think alone, closing the door behind himself. Sherlock stayed silent. He didn't even acknowledge that John had left the room. John hadn't spoken a coherent sentence since he'd realised that Sherlock was attracted to him, and it was starting to worry him. Had he done something wrong? John saw there was no milk, so he thought it may be a good idea to just leave for a few minutes to get some, give Sherlock a bit of time to see what he was saying, make sure he knew what he had just said. he quietly grabbed his coat and slipped out the door, silent. As soon as the door closed with a click, Sherlock dropped his violin and bow on the armchair and buried his face in his hands.  
"Well done, Sherlock," he muttered.  
"You may have just successfully destroyed your friendship with John."  
Sherlock dropped into his armchair, ruffling his hair and sighing. "I really messed this one up."

John took his time in the shop, browsing thoroughly before just getting half a pint of milk. at the counter, he realised what he was craving and also bought a 10 pack of Marlborough. he walked out of the shop, strolling slowly around the corner, where he opened the packet, lit a cigarette and placed it between his lips, breathing in heavily. John still wasn't sure about how he felt from Sherlock's news; he couldn't even tell if he felt the same or not, he was just...numb. he kept expecting himself to recoil, to hate Sherlock, but he didn't. in fact, he felt closer to Sherlock then he ever had. he wasn't sure, and he didn't care. Sherlock must be confused himself, hell, he might not be sure either, but John was sure he had to at least try. he finished the cigarette, put the pack in his pocket and headed back up to the flat, determination powering him forward.  
Sherlock's shoulders stiffened when he heard the door downstairs, but he didn't move from his curled up position; he was hugging his knees to his chest and resting his chin on them. John walked straight to the kitchen; he had to act normal, after all, and normally he would put away the milk. Was he really this dull? Sherlock averted his gaze: he'd embarrassed himself with what he'd done. John decided he needed another cigarette to calm his nerves, although why they helped he had no idea, so he put the milk in the fridge then went into his room. He opened the window, lit a cigarette and blew the smoke out, trying not to make the smell to powerful; that was the last thing Sherlock needed.

Sherlock'd already caught the scent of smoke on John's clothes as he'd passed though. It confused him. As far as he knew, John had never smoked...  
John finished and shut the window, attempting the steel his nerves. he walked back into the living room, sitting in his chair and picking up the laptop. Sherlock raised his head slightly, his head tilted to one side.  
"Smoke?" John laughed softly,  
"I needed it." he turned on the laptop again, making sure Sherlock couldn't see the screen. John was secretly deleting his account on the website, telling everyone he had been talking to that he had made a mistake and was no longer available. Doing so caused a grin to form on his face, and uncontrollable chuckle spurting out: as he looked back through the site he realised he had been fooling himself all along. Sherlock raised an eyebrow at him.  
"What's funny?"  
"Just me." after he had finished, John turned off the laptop and looked straight at Sherlock, now sure of himself.  
"Sherlock."  
"Yes, John?" John couldn't think how to express himself, so he just walked over and sat close to Sherlock, hugging him tightly. Sherlock blinked in surprise. For a moment, he sat there, unsure how to react. After a while, he unfolded his legs and wrapped his arms around John. As he felt this John flushed with relief that Sherlock hadn't changed his mind and sank into a more comfortable position, resting his head on Sherlock's shoulder. Sherlock tucked his face into John's hair, breathing in his scent. He hesitated before quietly saying,  
"I don't understand..."  
"neither do I." John just wanted to stay there forever, now absolutely sure of just exactly how he felt and what he had been missing.  
"No, I mean... earlier you didn't... I don't know."  
"I had to think." John whispered into his ear. Sherlock shivered slightly.  
"Fair enough then." John opened his arms slightly,  
"are you ok?" he was worried he was moving too fast, this was probably a first for Sherlock after all. Sherlock tucked his face into John's shoulder.  
"I'm fine. I'm... happy." John smiled and hugged Sherlock again, pressing his forehead against Sherlock's neck, breathing in his smell. The kissed the top of his head, smiling a little. John was about to return Sherlock's gift when he saw Mrs Hudson in the doorway, hand over her mouth. he sighed and whispered into Sherlock's ear.  
"Hudson." Sherlock froze, a slight note of panic on his face, before he swept it away.  
"Good evening, Mrs Hudson." John quickly unwrapped himself from Sherlock, coughing from embarrassment. Mrs Hudson rushed over, hugging John and Sherlock together,  
"oh boys! I knew it would happen, I knew it!" Sherlock's cheeks turned a little pink. He patted Mrs Hudson's back awkwardly and said nothing, only offering a soft chuckle. Mrs Hudson realised she was a third wheel and felt embarrassed, "  
"oh, well, I suppose I'll leave you too to it, um, call me if you need anything." she hurried out as fast as she could, shutting the door quietly behind her. Sherlock chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.  
"That was... unexpected." John chuckled.  
"she's going to be over the moon.."  
"I expect she's phoning the neighbour with 'the married ones' as we speak..."  
"oh god..." John got up and started making tea, leaving the door open.  
"No doubt they'll be around to offer congratulations even though we've never met them." While John's back was turned, Sherlock smirked and admired his arse. He was allowed to do that now, right?  
"great" John brought over tea for Sherlock, leaning to put his own on the coffee table before he sat on the arm of Sherlock's chair. Sherlock rested his head against John's shoulder, still smirking.  
"Thank you. " John smiled and rested his head on Sherlock.  
"pleasure." Sherlock sipped his tea, simply enjoying John's company. John bent to pick up his own, the back of his shirt coming un-tucked as he did so. The detective swallowed and looked away from the strip of exposed skin, gnawing his lip. John sipped his tea with one hand, hugging Sherlock with the other. He brought his lips to Sherlock's forehead, kissing it tenderly. feeling no resistance, John moved downwards, eyes closed, and kissed Sherlock warmly on the lips, breathing heavier than usual. The detective's heart beat at a terrific pace when John's lips touched his forehead, and even more so when they reached his mouth. Sherlock let his eyes drift closed as he returned the kiss, copying John's more experienced movements. John's hands gripped the back of Sherlock's shirt, hugging him tightly, causing the detective to actually felt himself smiling. One of his hands drifted up to rest on John's cheek. John continued to kiss Sherlock, barely stopping for breath, loving his taste. Sherlock had to break away to breathe and attempt to assemble his thoughts, which had successfully scattered. John smiled reassuringly at Sherlock, loosening his grip his grip.  
"Just... need a moment," he breathed, leaning his head back on the pillows of his armchair.  
"that's okay..." John was a little worried he had scared Sherlock off. The detective twined his hand with John's, linking their fingers together. Judging by the slight crease between John's eyebrows, his mood was dipping into negative areas.  
"It's a bit... much," he explained.  
"I've never had any reason to explore these actions before."  
"never?" John had suspected this but never was sure. Sherlock simply shook his head.  
"No."  
"huh." John smiled then reached for his tea again, sipping slowly.  
"Do you find that surprising?"  
"a little, I guess..." John returned to his cup, gulping down some more tea..  
"Why?"  
"I don't know, I just..." John smirked, suddenly realising, he was the expert here. he knew more than Sherlock about something?! he chuckled softly, unable to stop it bursting out.

Sherlock frowned, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.  
"What's funny?"  
"nothing, I'm just not normally smarter than you about a subject..." John grinned. Sherlock scowled and turned his gaze on the arm of the chair that wasn't occupied by John, who just laughed again and stood to wash up his empty mug, reaching for Sherlock's. He passed it over then drew his knees up onto the chair. Reaching down, he picked up a book and rested it on his knees. John looked at Sherlock and smiled again before turning to wash the mugs; he wanted to give the detective a moment alone to gather his thoughts, and he needed to do so himself anyway, he had just kissed Sherlock Holmes, for Christ sake.  
Sherlock flicked through the pages absent mindedly, but he found his mind drifting away from the words. He continued to try reading, though; it would clear his mind somewhat. Not much had changed, really, when he thought about it, all that had altered was how he and John acted around each other, and he doubted that would go much further than 221B. Anderson would be insufferable if he found out; Sherlock didn't look forward to that particular conversation.  
John scrubbed the dishes, his mind somewhat preoccupied; it had finally hit him, he was gay? that really started to freak him out now, he was gay!? how? was he always gay? since when? he leaned heavily on the sink, starting to hyperventilate. Silently, Sherlock got up and went to join John. He hesitated before placing one of his hands over John's.  
"John?" he asked quietly. His room mate looked up at Sherlock, searching his face.  
"I'm fine..." as he looked at Sherlock he saw again what had made him come back, what had made him hug Sherlock, kiss Sherlock; it was because he was Sherlock, and John was just meant to be with him. he smiled, suddenly full of assurance.  
"I'm fine." Sherlock raised an eyebrow; well, that was certainly odd, fine people don't have to lean on sinks to stay standing.  
"If you're certain," he replied.  
"of course I am." John smiled reassuringly.  
"Good." Turning on his heel, Sherlock went about collecting various pieces of science equipment again, attempting to tidy up most of his mess and salvage his experiment. John watched him, watching the way he walked, the way his hips rolled and his waist turned, absorbing Sherlock's image. The detective glanced over at John, raising an eyebrow again.  
"Are you staring at me?"  
"hmm? no, just looking." He smirked.  
"Still looking, though, weren't you?" John raised an eyebrow jokily.  
"is that a problem?"  
"...I suppose not." Sherlock picked up a pair of goggles and pulled them on before he peered down at a substance in a test tube that bubbled quietly. John liked this; he liked being able to admire Sherlock, to be able to be close to him whenever he wanted. it was...for filling. John finished his tea slowly, dragging his eyes away from Sherlock.  
The detective moved back quickly when the experiment spat a few droplets of the liquid into the air to avoid them, a tiny smile flickering at the corners of his lips. The smile turned into a frown when the liquid stilled. Sherlock scowled and promptly poured it down the sink.  
"Boring now." John looked up from his seat on the sofa, newspaper in hand.  
"what was that Sherlock, will it break the pipes again?" Sherlock chuckled as he rinsed out the test tube.  
"It might do..."  
"oh Sherlock..." John realised there was no point and trailed off. Sherlock laughed quietly and put the test tube aside. Removing his goggles, he shook his head and blinked. Sighing, John turned back to the paper, reading an article about glowing cats. He wasn't really interested in cats, glowing or not, but he also wasn't really sure what to do now.  
Sherlock was bored too. With his experiment over, he had nothing left to do. Eventually, after much consideration, he decided he would search for John's gun and shoot the wall again. BANG! Sherlock shoot the smiley face in the wall, announcing "Bored" in a dull tone.

John's head whipped up; the shot had caused him to jump violently.  
"Sherlock!"  
"What?" John looked at him, exasperated, but Sherlock just shrugged. "  
I've done this before, John. I'm bored."  
"I know, and then Mrs Hudson nearly shot you."  
"She wouldn't shoot anyone." John rolled his eyes.  
"you know what I mean." Sherlock laughed.  
"Of course I do, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm bored."  
"well, can't you find something else to do?" john's eyes narrowed slightly as he realised the implications of what he had just said. Sherlock smirked; he too realised the meaning behind it.  
"I suppose I could..."John raised an eyebrow at Sherlock, smiling. The detective strode across the room to place the gun on the table - yes, place it; he didn't want to shoot anything or anyone by accident. John watched Sherlock, a smirk on his face. Sherlock rolled his eyes, his back to John still as he unloaded the gun; better to be safe than sorry.  
"What are you waiting for? An invitation?"  
"No, just watching." John grinned.  
"You enjoy that, don't you? Watching me. You were doing it in the kitchen."  
"oh, so I was." John was bugging Sherlock on purpose now, enjoying himself. He rolled his eyes.  
"What's the phrase I'm looking for...? 'Take a photo, it'll last longer'." John laughed and stood, walking over to Sherlock, who glanced over at John, an eyebrow raised. John stood close to Sherlock but didn't touch him; he wasn't going to force himself on Sherlock. The detective reached out a hand to take hold of John's; after a slight hesitation he wound their fingers together. The feeling of John's skin on his was rather nice. Comfortable. John warmly complied with Sherlock's motion, loving the feel of his skin. Sherlock felt a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. John squeezed his hand, letting that speak for him. Sherlock hesitantly wrapped his arm around John's shoulders and pulled him into a hug, feeling the man's warmth as John hugged him back, resting his head on his shoulder.  
"This is comfortable," Sherlock commented, pressing his cheek into John's hair.  
"very." John breathed down Sherlock back, making the detective shiver. It was an odd feeling.  
"sorry, did that upset you?"  
"Not at all. It just felt... strange."  
"oh, ok." John returned to Sherlock's shoulder, trying not to breath so hard.  
"In a good way." John smiled and hummed softly, swaying slightly. Sherlock closed his eyes and tucked his nose into John's hair, breathing in his scent and enjoying it. John carried on rocking, enjoying the intimacy of Sherlock. For the detective It was... odd. Sherlock had never had a moment like this, not ever. John wanted to stay there for ever, to hold Sherlock for ever.  
"You're very comfortable," Sherlock murmured.  
"really? so are you."  
"I've never been described as 'comfortable' before."  
"we've never done this before." John replied simply, still swaying as he tucked his head into Sherlock's shoulder.  
"Obviously. I would remember such a thing."  
"and that's why you have never been called comfortable."  
"Hm." John breathed in Sherlock's smell, sighing. Sherlock realised that he could quite happily stay there. John didn't want to leave either, but he was a little wistful for more. Eventually, he decided Sherlock wouldn't mind, but he was still going to move slowly. John started running his hand through Sherlock's hair, breathing in the smell. Sherlock leaned into his touch, sighing happily his hold on John tightening slightly. Grinning, John slowly tilted his head into Sherlock's until they were face to face, his eyes half closed. Feeling utterly content, Sherlock pressed his forehead against John's, his eyes slipping closed. John brushed the detective's lips with his again but didn't come any closer; he wasn't going to push Sherlock, so if he wanted to go further he would have to start. Sherlock frowned and moved forward the necessary space to press his lips against John's, who was overjoyed and couldn't control himself as he kissed Sherlock passionately, tightening his grip on the man's hair. Sherlock became more adventurous with his movements, letting his tongue dart out to lightly touch John's lips. John grinned through his teeth and copied Sherlock's actions, with a more experienced flourish. Sherlock hummed into the kiss, pressing his lips more firmly against his room-mate's.  
John carried on kissing Sherlock, running his hand across his shoulders lightly. The detective sighed contentedly through his nose, a smile curling the corners of his lips. John continued to stroke Sherlock's shoulders, his hand gradually sinking to his waist. Sherlock's hand rested on John's cheek, lightly brushing over his skin with his thumb. John sighed through his teeth and pressed his lips against Sherlock's even harder, lowering his hand to Sherlock's hips.  
"Eager, aren't you?" he murmured against John's lips, chuckling quietly. John chuckled in reply and raised his hand to the small of Sherlock's back,  
"sorry..."  
"Oh, I'm not complaining, just...commenting." John smiled wider and continued his former progress, Sherlock making a quiet sound of approval. The blogger re-joined his lips with Sherlock's, not wanting to refrain from his warmth, and settled both his arms hugging Sherlock's lower hips, all while running his tongue across Sherlock's bottom lip. The detective shivered and parted his lips, hesitantly allowing his own tongue to snake out to lightly touch John's, his other hand rested on the man's shoulder. John reacted to this by rapping his tongue around Sherlock's, exploring every crevice of his mouth.  
He moaned softly. John's taste, feel and smell was all that was on his mind. Everything else - all of the thoughts that usually buzzed around - was gone. John ran his tongue across Sherlock's teeth and around the insides of his cheeks, enjoying every inch a little more than the last. he tightened his grip on Sherlock's shirt again, trying not to hurt him. Sherlock let John lead, being the more experienced of them. He went along with what the doctor wanted, since he was enjoying it anyway. Both hands rested on John's shoulders now, clutching them tightly. The blogger pulled Sherlock softly towards the sofa, thinking how much more comfortable it would be. Sherlock followed him obediently, still struggling to get his mind around recent events. John wanted him, he was in a relationship with him, Sherlock Holmes...  
Sherlock sat with John and settled more comfortably, leaning under him slightly because of their difference in height. Sherlock eagerly pulled John against him again, pressing his lips hungrily to his once more.

John loved the way Sherlock moved, looked, smelled, just the way he was Sherlock, in fact. as if showing this, John rested heavily against the detective's chest as they kissed, one hand lingering on his thigh. Alarm bells started to go off in Sherlock's head, making his kiss slow slightly, but not by much. He knew something wasn't right, something with his body. He'd learned to suppress urges over the years, and now... He was confused, but continued to kiss the blogger as he thought it over. At the same time, John felt a new part of Sherlock altogether, and he didn't think the detective noticed. pulling away slowly, he smiled sheepishly at Sherlock.  
"um, Sherlock..." he couldn't think how to explain, so he just indicated towards the detective's lap. Sherlock frowned, following John's gesture. His cheeks flushed pink when he realised - if they could be any more pink. He untangled himself from John and looked away.  
"My apologies..." "uh, don't worry Sherlock, it's happens to everyone once or twice..." John looked at the carpet, trying not to laugh. Shifting uncomfortably, Sherlock decided it would be better to pick an option - fight or flight - with one he'd never chosen before.  
"Excuse me," he murmured, standing up and heading towards his room. John smiled at him, then as soon as Sherlock's door was closed he could not control the burst of teenage giggling that escaped from his mouth. Clamping his hand over his face to keep quiet, The blogger ran his free hand through his hair, his heart still beating faster than usual.  
Sherlock curled up on his side on his bed, scowling. He'd got what he wanted, hadn't he? John. Mission successful. He hadn't accounted for... that annoyance, though.  
John chuckled again as he calmed down, thinking of how that had happened to him before, if about 20 years earlier. he stooped to pick up his laptop, turning it on. Sherlock stayed in his room, too annoyed and even a bit embarrassed with his body's reactions to leave. He ended up tuning his violin, plucking at the strings in the hope that it would calm his mind again. John quickly replied to the upset messages he had received after promptly becoming "not single!" with vague reasons then fully shut down his account on the site, satisfied he wouldn't need it again. Ever.  
Happy that the violin was in tune, Sherlock slowly walked back and forth across his room, improvising the piece.  
John wasn't sure what to do, so he updated his blog with a few more facts about their last case, flicking through what Sherlock had "allowed" him to broadcast...

Sherlock had been skittish around his blogger since the "incident" the day before, making up some excuse and fleeing for the day, but John didn't mind: it was only natural to be embarrassed. He decided to give the detective room to breath, staying in the house and writing up some more of his blog.  
Sherlock realised what John must be thinking about his sudden disappearance, but he had to prioritise: an experiment of his had finally come to fruition, so he had some business to take care of. He had already decided he didn't want to involve John, especially now that they were involved, so he didn't say anything, just mentioning a visit to Mycroft. Once he was finished, he found himself wandering aimlessly around a deserted park, some when late at night. Maybe I am avoiding him, Sherlock thought, visiting a few people doesn't normally take that long...he slowly began wandering back to 221B, instantly deciding against a taxi.  
John got a little worried about Sherlock after it got dark outside but there wasn't much he could do, apart from wait until the detective got back. Oh god, he thought, I've turned into a worried house wife..  
Sherlock strolled down the street, wrapped in his coat with the collar up. His pace slowed as he approached the flat, but he forced himself to open the door and go up to the flat. As he walked in and hung up his coat, Sherlock could hear John in the kitchen , no doubt making tea. The blogger walked into the sitting room, a pot of sugar in his hand.  
"Tea, Sherlock?" oh god, thought the detective, giving John a smile, he's going to pretend nothing happened, Brilliant, this is going to be a long night... John smiled back and went through to the kitchen, finished making the tea and brought back two cups. He passed one to Sherlock then sat in his usual armchair, tea in one hand, laptop in the other. The detective sat in his chair, dumped the tea on the coffee table and held his face in his hands.  
"Sherlock? What's wrong?" John put down his tea and leaned towards the detective, his face twisted with worry. Not such a good actor after all, Sherlock thought. Sighing, he let go of his face and looked up at John.  
"Nothing, just..."  
"what?" Sherlock laughed humourlessly and waved his hands, exasperated.  
"This, its...over whelming..."  
"...right..." John's face fell: was this Sherlock leaving him?

The detective saw John's expression and grinned ruefully,  
"No, John, I just mean..."he trailed off and ran his hand through his hair.  
"...It's a lot to deal with." John sighed heavily, relieved, and sank back into his chair.  
"I get it, its strange for me too..." John grinned at him ruefully,  
"But it'll get easier." Sherlock stared at him for a moment then laughed hollowly.  
"What?" John frowned, not sure what state Sherlock was in after a day alone. The detective flashed him another strange look, pacing the room now.  
"You amaze me, John, even after all this time. How can you have such blind faith? How can you trust in," he waved his arms in the air frantically,  
"This, with no real backing or reasoning?" he turned back to John, his eyes darker and more intense than usual as he searched John's face for answers.  
"well?" He huffed and started pacing again, working off his frustration. John rolled his eyes at the detective's back, unimpressed by his outburst. He stood silently and stepped in close to the detective, standing just behind him as he slowed to a stop. John softly wrapped Sherlock in his arms, loose enough for the detective to move away if he wanted to.  
Sherlock had shivered slightly at his blogger's touch, but it was, he realised, from a new kind of craving then from disgust. He span to face John, careful not to lose the man's hold on him as he did so. Smiling softly at him, John folded Sherlock into a hug, standing on tiptoe so his lips could reach Sherlock's ear.  
"This, this is why." he sighed softly and rested his head on the detective's shoulder, breathing in his smell. Sherlock silently agreed, wrapping his arms around John in reply, holding him closer. After a few minutes, John chuckled and relinquished his hold on the detective. Walking into the kitchen, he called back to Sherlock,  
"Tea?" A little disappointed, Sherlock trailed after his blogger to the kitchen. John had already set about making the tea, now leaning into the fridge searching for milk.  
"Sherlock, are you serious?" he passed a jar over his shoulder to Sherlock, not turning around.  
"Why in hell would you want to pickle a rat's head?" Sherlock smirked and took the jar, placing it carefully on the table.  
"experiment." John muttered under his breath, but said nothing in reply; where "experiments" were concerned, Sherlock was hopeless. After finally finding some milk, John stepped back out of the fridge, triumphant, straight into Sherlock.  
"Sherlock, Why d'you always come up behind me like-" The detective put his hand over John's mouth, silencing him instantly. Humming, Sherlock walked round John, not moving his hand until he could replace it with his lips. As he did so, a grin spread across John's face, immediately returning Sherlock's gift, if with a little more vigour.  
Happy that he was finally getting the full attention of his blogger, Sherlock pulled him into the living room, then on the sofa, so that he could reward John properly.


End file.
